Dreamly

The faucet of the sink in the bathroom blasts at full force, tossing water everywhere except the bowl of the sink. Little Timmy hangs his head over the faucet while standing on his toes to reach over. He spits pink and white suds into the blasting water and smiles a grin lacking several teeth.

Timmy looks up at the mirror and sees his mother coming in the bathroom, a children’s book in her left arm and a wet towel with the picture of Sponge Bob in the other. She chuckles lightly and looks down at Timmy, his mouth covered in white toothpaste.

“You make such a mess sometimes!” He said with a smile, she brings Sponge Bob to his lips and begins wiping Timmy’s mouth clean. “Show me your pearly whites, hon.”

Little Timmy opens a grimace toothy grin and flaps his tongue around his mouth and attempts to speak. His big brown eyes dash around in their sockets and the little boy jiggles a little dance in his one piece pajama suit, the picture of Spiderman shooting web out at Timmy’s face.

His mother tickles at the boy’s sides and pounces playfully on him and then offers a bear hug, “Come on now! It’s time for bed, young man!”

She takes him to his room, cluttered in toys and video games. She prepares her son for bed. The endless battle of giant robots fighting for survival in the deepest reaches of space seem to instantly end when she folds the sheets of Timmy’s bed back.

He crawls inside and she pulls the covers tight around his body. The boy looks up at her with those big puppy dog eyes and begs for her to stay with him. He pulls down his lower lip in a pathetic display and asks if she could read a story for him.

Timmy’s mother was well prepared for the broad way show her child put on. This time she was prepared and had already picked out a book to read to him. She nods her head and accommodates his request.

She lays the book on the bed and gets up to turn off his ceiling light, the fan buzzing around quickly to keep the air cool. In the deserts of New Mexico, it’s difficult not to hot and uncomfortable.

She walks over to close his closet even before he asks her to. This ritual happens nearly every night and she has this down to an art. She looks over her shoulder and raises a brow at her son, she smirks, he hides under his covers.

“What are you reading me tonight Mom?” Timmy asks anxiously. He could probably make out the words, but he only wants to hear his mother’s soothing voice.

She nestles back down at the edge of the bed and gets the book, she shows the front cover. A couple of goats trying to trot over a bridge while there is a giant green furry monster lounging underneath. She opens the book to the first page and begins reading to him.

His eyes grow heavy. He listens to the angel’s voice. He begins to dream and imagine the scene in his head. He can’t open his eyes. He’s exausted from the day’s activities. All of his thoughts disappear in the emptiness, the darkness within his mind. He is at peace with himself. He can’t focus. Sleep.

“You stupid of a bitch, who the fuck do you think you are?!” He yells so loud the windows seem to rattle. “I swear woman, don’t you raise a hand to me!”

A loud slap is heard and then he yells more obscene curses at her.

“Let go of my hair, you’re hurting me!” She cries out for mercy, praying for anyone to hear her. “Let me go!” She pleads.

“I told you not to do that, you damned whore!” Something cracks loudly and a body falls against porcelain The sound of water draining and the gush of an explosive faucet nearly floods the screaming and roaring.

Timmy brings his sheets down from over his head. He peers down the dark hallway and to the crack of light under the door at the end. This is his bathroom, locked up and shadows of legs moving frantically about.

The door is pounded against, nearly cracking from its frame and the shadows move anxiously around. There is another heavy snap of a body on something cold, items tumbling down to the tile or tub.

A woman crying is heard in the darkness down the hall, lit only by a slit of light.

“Learn your place bitch!” The voice demands to the woman.

Timmy knows the female’s voice as his mothers. He musters enough courage to try and see what is going on, tears pouring from the child’s face. Fear overwhelming him.

He holds a teddy bear in his right hand, hung by an ear and dangling like a lynched criminal. He whimpers and wipes his nose clean. He stutters and tries to hold back more tears, “Momma?” He asks, not wanting to know the answer.

He takes a step forward out of the bedroom. The open hallway around him seems so dark. So distant and cold that it seems he doesn’t understand where he was. As if the darkness was unwelcoming and bitter. As if he were being watched.

Each step was an anchor on the boy’s soul. Each heavy weighted movement was like moving boulders. His slow and persistent march towards the black wooden door at the end of the hall seemed endless. Timmy looks down the hall and focuses his fear away. The door just seems to slip further away from him.

Little Timmy steps towards the door and looks down at the bottom of the door frame where the light peaks out. He still sees the black shadow of legs on the opposite side of the wooden door.

He places his ear on the door. The cold texture of pain presses against his cheek. He holds his breath and waits to hear more conversation but he doesn’t even hear a whisper. He waits patiently for any sounds at all.

Tears still stream down the child’s face and he presses his ear against the door even more. He contemplates turning the door knob or not. What will he find on the other side, he is curious but fears what it. He decides to wait a little longer.

The door shakes and pounds from its frame. The brass hinges of the door rattle, the bolts holding the door shut drop loose. The boy jumps backwards and a terrible pounding knocks hit the wood repeatedly.

The boy, anxious and worried, becomes overwhelmed. He steps up in his single piece pajama suit and turns the knob. The door isn’t locked. He decides to overcome his fear and he quickly pushes the door open and screams, “Momma?!”

Timmy steps into a dark room. His bathroom is empty and cold. Quiet and without the two people he suspected were in it. He looks around and steps out for a moment. There was light coming from the room. Timmy saw it, he swore he saw people inside. He steps back inside the room and looks around to find nothing out of the normal.

He turns on the lights. The bright white bulbs glow at the top of the mirror to the sink. He looks at the toilet. It’s clean and spotless with the purple fuzzy cover to hide the fact that the porcelain is cold and boring.

Timmy looks over to his bathtub. The shower curtain was a picture of a smiling dolphin. Bubbles reflect small crabs and schools of fish on their way to a building that reads, “School of Fish.”

The big dolphin on the curtain doesn’t appear to be smiling about going to school. The boy feels paranoid as if the mammal was watching him and laughing at his fears. He saw an episode of Flipper once, this was not the dolphin he had imagined he’d meet.

The child walks over to the shower curtain and grabs at the side. He pulls the curtains back to stop the dolphin’s evil glare and instantly he looks down to see a tub filled with water and blood.

“Do you want me to read you a story?” An ominous voice whispers to the child. He looks for the source and suddenly a head comes out of the tub, smiling at the boy like his mother would try to comfort him.

The head continues to rise and then an arm rose from the red pool, grabbing to the edge of the tub. It tries to climb out. The body of a pale white woman is exposed, covered in thick red ooze. Her hair is long and shines brightly from the liquids, her eyes are black and without emotion.

Timmy screams loudly and falls down on the slick tile. He squirms and tries to craw out of the bathroom screaming for him mother. The boy looks over his shoulder. He claws the ground with his fingernails. His feels his leg being grabbed and being pulled back to the tub.

“Momma!” The kid screams out.

The boy turns on his back and looks down at up to find that the nude corpse is no longer in the bath tub. There isn’t anything in the bathroom. The lights, the wrinkled curtain of a dolphin, and the boy are the only company in the quiet place.

His heart beats fast, his breath is uncontrollable. His sweating makes the cotton pajama’s stick to his body. He curls up on the bathroom tile and hides in the crevice of where the toilet meets the cabinet of the sink. He rocks himself back and forth. He cries out for help but his mother doesn’t hear him. He is too afraid to run to her side. He’ll stay here until she finds him. He hopes she’ll find him. She’ll find him, right?